I don't really know why it hit me so hard this morning, but as I was checking early morning emails and cramming my face-hole with cocoa dusted almonds (you should try them), I was straight up gut-punched by the date and the bitter fact that in exactly two months, I would be 30. Years. OLD.
I mean, don't get me wrong. Age is truly just a number. I have friends both younger and older than "that" age. I don't ever really look at someone and think anything about their birthday in relation to their age. I've never even felt the impact of a birthday and swore up and down I wouldn't be "that" girl who freaked the EFF out over a set of numbers assigned to her based solely on the day she came bursting into this wide wide world. But here I am. Freaking the EFF out because 3 and 0 are about to replace 2 and 9 and 1 and 8 seems like a million years ago. Where did the time go and how am I a mom now and when was the last time I brushed my hair or put on some really really NICE red lipstick? Have I wasted the past 360 months of my life on nothingness and too many carbs? Why do I feel the sudden urge to burn my entire wardrobe because it's "not fitting for my age" anymore. What the hell is wrong with me?
I guess I should have known this mental breakdown of sorts was coming when I purchased under eye cream and an assortment of other beauty-fixing products a few months ago on a whim. Anything that de-wrinkles, ultra-moisturizes, brightens, corrects, conceals or repairs now lives in my bathroom, lurking like the extra weight around my mid-section (whatever, I bought some candy, too). I can say without reserve that I don't even know how to use half of the shit I acquired. I just keep hoping that by hoarding it all, it will somehow absorb into my face or subtly threaten my body into not aging any further. I've found myself many mornings staring at my open medicine cabinet, eyeing my royal jelly-infused eye balm in horror Unmitigated panic. W-T-F.
Granted, I had a baby just a little less than 5 months ago. My body has been through some crazy radical changes, bound to stir even the calmest pot. Would I still feel this way approaching the big 3 (choke, choke) 0 if my belly hadn't been stretched to maximum capacity and felt my boobs actually get close to full-on EXPLODING after filling with human milk? I don't know, but I think I would still feel the shakiness of this upcoming milestone. I look in the mirror and don't recognize the face staring back. I look at pictures of me and can't quite pinpoint what has changed (besides the fact that I finally stopped cutting my own hair--thanks, Bethany). Is it me and have I really changed so dramatically or is all in my head?
So I have 2 more months of my twenties. I haven't showered in 4 days, my undershirt is covered in boob milk, my pants have a perma-sticky-coffee ring on them from where I sit my drink each morning while I nurse the boy, and I am 96.5% makeup free, besides the small bit of mascara that I didn't manage to wash off my lashes. It's most definitely not the sultry image I had imagined when I was younger. I haven't even reached the status of MILF yet, besides the fact that I have a KILLER rack. I'm more of just a MIL for now--Mother I'd Like. Eh.
I no longer stay up late, drink copious amounts of beer to keep up with the boys, I no longer fit into the mini skirts that I squeezed into even last year. Sexy lace and sheer fabric has been replaced by comfort and rips and stains.
At the same time, however, the IDGAF (google it, mother) attitude has it's perks. I'll proudly saunter my huge post-pregnancy ass into Albertson's JUST to get cookies, wearing yoga pants and a sports bra like WHAT? Fuck you--I like cookies. Yeah. And walk out and drive home to my baby who looks at me like I'm Princess-damn-Jasmine beautiful.
You hear about all of these things that come along with getting older, but you scoff and brush them off and keep throwing back shots of cheap liquor and staying up too late and not writing your novel or going back to school or becoming a pastry chef or whatever it is you hoped to do by the time you hit 30. And then it's knocking at your door and your don't have pants on and haven't mowed your lawn in like, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy too many months and you're like...well, shit. Guess I'd better just deal with it.
So I'll be 30. I have a baby, a loving boyfriend, amazing friends and family and a great job. My photography has finally taken off and I'm confident in my ever-growing skills. I may not be super thrilled with the fact that my waist is bigger than I'd like and that I'm always a huge mess or that I don't QUITE have it all together yet. I may not always like the mirror and I probably need a cookie intervention but I know that 30 will unlock even more treasures. Wrinkles, sure, but. That's what fancy overpriced royal eye jelly under eye cream is for.
Much love. Check in on me on November 18, it's the big day and I'll undoubtedly need a little moral support (possibly whiskey) then.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Tiny Human Enters World
I've been meaning to write out my birth story for a little while now, but as it turns out, raising and breastfeeding and diapering a baby is quite a lot of work. Hendrick is almost 5 months old now and is a giant, long, healthy and overly happy baby and the apple of my eye. A lot of women will tell you that it doesn't matter how a baby comes into this world but rather that they arrive safe and unscathed (until high school, that is). I agree to a point, but I have learned that every mom has a unique birth story, and no matter what they tell you, they are forever changed by it. I am blessed to say that although my birth did not turn out to be anything like I had hoped, it was an amazing experience. Yes, birth, an amazing experience. I never thought I would say that. Cause, vaginas and contractions and all that. Yeah. Excuse me if this is not as sarcastic or funny as you have come to expect.
So. I went past 40 weeks. Big deal. I didn't expect to go into labor early and quite honestly didn't want to. For the most part, I really enjoyed being pregnant. I wanted to savor the time I had left with my belly and my excuse to eat French fries and dark chocolate and wear stretchy pants pulled up to my armpits everyday. I was incredibly nervous, as well, but not about the actual birth part. I was scared to be a mom and was afraid that I might not even like my son when he came out (or rather, that he may not like ME). I know there are many moms who go through these emotions but don't share them. I think it's important because it's normal--you're about to be a parent for the first time...that's huge. I am so thankful for friends and family and Josh and my amazing doula, Reannan for helping me refocus my energies on bringing Hendrick into this world with a heart full of love. I was anxious to meet Henners, but calm in knowing that my body would do exactly what it needed to when the time came.
Roll back the calendar to April 17th--I was in the doctor's office for my 41 week check up. I had been cramping slightly but not dilating and was just feeling super frustrated. Dr. Andy and I had agreed that past the 40 week mark, I would do regular NST and ultrasounds to make sure my placenta was still thriving and that my fluid levels were okay and of course that baby was moving around. During my NST, I had a few contractions! I was beside myself happy and bounced home to take a brisk walk hoping it would start something. I was still VERY crampy after dinner but nothing progressed so I just went to bed.
I woke up on April 18th around 6:45 with very intense cramps that would cause me to double over as I walked. I didn't think much of it and went to make my raspberry tea. I dozed a little bit longer and when I got up to finally use the bathroom again, I had bloody show. I think that was the most exciting thing I've ever seen--it was a spiritual moment, me sitting on the toilet holding the toilet paper. I know, it's gross. Josh gagged and put up a hand to stop me from showing him. But it didn't matter to me--something was happening. Throughout the day, more and more of the plug came out, and I continued to have cramps (which I now know where mild contractions). Josh and I did the dirty (what, we made love, get over it, it helps things get moving) and went to the park around 5 to meet Reannan and just hang out and talk baby and labor which seemed to be approaching (finally!). She brought me a beautiful flower and wished me well, and we parted with hearts full of anticipation, agreeing either I or Josh would of course contact her with updates. On the way home, we stopped by my best friend's house and said a quick hello. I was bouncing in my seat excited because my contractions continued to slowly wash over me as we talked. I made alfredo pasta and chicken picatta (which, I'm still not good at) and bounced on the yoga ball watching Honey Boo Boo. Josh fell asleep and I stayed up for a bit before passing out asleep.
On April 19th I woke up around 2 am with contractions that were coming steady and had increased in length and power. It was uncomfortable, like period cramps, but still manageable. I took notes through this whole thing and I have written down "I am learning to breathe through each one". And breathe I did. I walked. I paced, and I reminded myself it was one step closer to meeting our boy. I was excited and calm and in disbelief that it was HAPPENING. My fears washed away. Around 5 that morning, I woke up Josh because I could no longer rest. I wasn't in terrible pain but I was very unsteady on my feet and I had to focus a bit more through each wave. 7am rolled by and Bethany (my dear and best friend) stopped by (of course I texted her immediately) and I bounced away on my yoga ball and we all chatted comfortably in the living room. I think she snapped some pictures of me in these final moments that Hendrick was in my belly, but let's be honest that they're not my best. I think I was shoving my face with a cranberry Kind bar at the time and not wearing a bra. My contractions were waning and I was getting a little concerned as to where they were disappearing to. As crazy as it sounds to some people, I was enjoying the fact that my body was finally on board.
What I haven't mentioned here is that my doctor and I had agreed that if I had not started labor on my own, at the 42 week mark I would be induced. Now, no one jump all over me for this. I get that the average gestation for a new mom is usually 42 weeks, and that people DO get pushed and SCARED into inductions! I was neither forced NOR scared. I want to say how AMAZINGLY supportive my doctor was to me, even going against the "norm" (hopefully one day this will change) to let me go past 40 weeks, to not try and force me to be induced, to continue letting me go on as planned even if the ultrasound techs said my "baby looked really big". He knew all of my wishes and desires and also had a great deal of confidence in me. I hope that in the future ALL women can have a doctor like Dr. Andy. I also hope one day Dr.Andy can expand on his practices and be happily one day assisting mothers in VBACS in Idaho. Alright, back to my birthing process.
I called my doctor to let him know I was having contractions and that they were steady but still about 10 minutes apart. The nurse that answered told me that she thought doctor Andy would tell me to go in so I should go ahead and head to the hospital. I told her no. My plan was to labor at home and progress as much as possible before going in--we did not live far from the hospital and I wanted to be at home and comfortable until the time came. She sighed and said she would talk to the doctor and then call me back. I got a call back and she said she talked to Dr.Andy and he said I should go in immediately. I started bawling and called Reannan who told me I was strong and that I needed to listen to my body. I not ready to go in--it could be another day or two even! I had planned on showering and packing a few final things and making food before I checked in. Not to mention that I definitely was doing fine at home. I insisted that HE talk to ME personally as I did not necessarily believe she had actually spoken with him.When we finally talked he told me I was just fine and to keep him updated. Love that guy.
My contractions were mild and irregular all throughout the day. We had several visitors and I talked on the phone to my mom. I ate an enormous amount of taco salad and then made a huge oriental salad to top that off. I was super hungry and guzzling Raspberry Leaf Tea by the gallon. My contractions continued and I laid down around 9 that night only to be woken up by a huge piece of my mucus plug passing that actually hurt. I was having lots of cramping and contractions; I think the cramping must have been from passing the mucus plug. This just kept up. I would contract heavily and regularly at night and then the contractions would slowly drift off in the morning, coming in weird patterns sporadically throughout the day. I was getting a little bit frustrated, but trying to stay calm. I did not want to be induced at any cost. I went to the hospital the night of 4/21 to get a requested NST to make sure baby was okay. Everything looked good except that my cervix was still thick and I had not yet dilated past 1. Still, I was very optimistic and ready to head home and rest. One way or another, I was going to be a mom--like, soon.
4/22 rolled around and I was set to be induced that night. I decided to go to a chiropractor as suggested by my sister in law and Reannan to see if it would give my body one final nudge. The thought was that baby was turned in a difficult position which is why I was having so much back pain and prodromal labor. My back pain eased up but contractions were still not frequent. So we checked in at 7pm that night. I was given Cervadil to dilate, which made my contractions immediately get a little bit heavier. I was fine with it, just a little upset that I wasn't allowed to pee during. I walked around and ate a little bit, and got into the bath in my room. I tried to sleep a little but I just couldn't. Josh slept on the windowsill bed while I texted with friends and breathed. I wasn't supposed to start Pitocin until 7 the next morning, but the Cervadil dilated me enough apparently and I was started a Pitocin drip. In about an hour, my contractions started to get fairly intense. I dilated to a 3 and was 80% effaced, but was still at a Stage Negative 3. It didn't matter. My baby was almost there. I was pleasantly surprised that no one had yet balked about my birthing plan and one nurse even asked for a copy so that everyone else who came into my room knew what was happening.
I loved being in the bath. I think if I ever give birth again it will be at home, in the water. I still had painful contractions, but it felt like heaven on my back. I just thought I'd add that in there.
Josh woke up around 5 and we called Rennan and Bethany (my best friend) to come be with us. At this point, I was really having to focus and breathe through each contraction as I was at the highest dosage of Pitocin they give. My good friend Shawna stopped by, but I barely remember seeing her because I was so focused on breathing. I absolutely could not have asked for a better group of people to be beside me in labor. Many will laugh, but it was a truly spiritual experience through me. My body just instinctively told me to "wheeewwww" deep and long through each contraction. I sometimes had to hold my hand up to the hospital staff to remind them to not talk to me or move me too fast because I was contracting. Josh, Reannan and Bethany took turns sitting next to me, laying hands on me or being leverage while I worked through a wave. They worked as a fluid, loving machine. All my needs were met and I never once felt panic or a sense of loneliness. I never reached out and didn't have a hand to hold. I also lost all sense of modesty, and for me that is hard. Even in front of people that loved me so much. I was open and raw and so surrounded by love.
Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured my dad telling me I was doing a good job. For those that don't know, my dad passed when I was 11. He was totally there with me in the delivery room. I think that's why we all laughed through each contraction. I remember Dr.Andy coming in and expecting me to be a wildcat or crying or angry, but each time was met with genuine surprise that we were laughing or talking quietly or just sitting together focusing the energy on baby Henners. The laboring that I got to do was peaceful.
I had previously been able to get into the bath with the fetal monitor on but was now told that I had to stay in bed because it was becoming increasingly hard to monitor baby's heartbeat. I explained calmly that I simply could not hold still, I needed to be able to move around per my birthing plan and bounce on a yoga ball, lay on my side, or get in the shower if need be. I knew if I ended up on my back I would not be able to handle the pain. I think this was around 10 AM or so.
An internal monitor was finally placed inside (per MY request) and eventually Dr.Andy came in and I decided that it was time to try breaking my bag of waters. I think that this half hour was the most painful for me.
As time went by, I still did not dilate or progress at all. In my heart I knew that Hendrick was not coming out vaginally. I really believe I knew this from the start. I know a lot of moms might scoff but I really felt this within my soul. I know my body was meant for birth, but I don't think with Hendrick it was meant to happen. Dr. Andy came in around 1 and explained to me that he was a little concerned. He gave me two options--I could choose to do a CSection now OR he would respect my birthing plan, remove me from the Pitocin drip and I could continue to labor on my own and see if that would help me progress. I remember looking around and telling everyone that although they might be surprised, I was opting to have a CSection. I don't think anyone was surprised besides the doctor. I explained that I had thought since conception that this would end how it did--not in a negative way, just that's what the universe held for me. I had gotten to carry my boy full term and experience labor with no pain meds, and I felt that it was time to get my son out. I believe that had I continued, it would have turned into an emergency situation. I also believe that the next time (if it happens) I have a baby, that I will have a very successful VBAC, possibly HBAC. I believe that everything happens as it should. So, after many days of prodromal labor, and 12 hours on Pitocin, I was prepped for surgery. Reannan and Bethany wiped me down for the procedure, and sent me off with final words of love as Josh suited up and called my family.
When it was time for my spinal block, Dr. Andy held me and told me how sorry he was that everything happened that I didn't want to happen, and how brave I was, and how amazed he was at how calm I was. I laughed along with the surgical staff while my body was prepared. Music played, and Josh was allowed to snap a few pictures during. He kept asking me if I wanted to see what was happening but I told him no. He was so fascinated by the whole operation, and I was shocked that he didn't pass out. As Hendrick was being born, Mumford and Sons played "I will wait for you..." and as cheesy as that is, a better song couldn't have been on. I did wait. And I heard him cry. And I started crying. And Josh exclaimed "He's PERFECT!!!!" and in that moment I was a mother. My heart left my body and went into his. Our bond was stronger than ever with him out of my body. We did it. Josh brought him to my side and Hendrick immediately latched onto my cheek. Good Lord I was in LOVE.
I am so grateful for so many things. I am grateful to have had a doctor who had my back. A doctor who cared. A hospital staff who LISTENED. A boyfriend who was there through the whole thing. A best friend who came by my side and quietly left before she could even MEET Hendrick, because she had to then go take care of her family. Nurses who allowed skin to skin with Josh afterwards, and nurses who let me leave recovery early instead of holding me for 2 hours so that I could breastfeed right away. I am mostly grateful that my son was safe and healthy and is here. I would not change my experience for anything.
So. I went past 40 weeks. Big deal. I didn't expect to go into labor early and quite honestly didn't want to. For the most part, I really enjoyed being pregnant. I wanted to savor the time I had left with my belly and my excuse to eat French fries and dark chocolate and wear stretchy pants pulled up to my armpits everyday. I was incredibly nervous, as well, but not about the actual birth part. I was scared to be a mom and was afraid that I might not even like my son when he came out (or rather, that he may not like ME). I know there are many moms who go through these emotions but don't share them. I think it's important because it's normal--you're about to be a parent for the first time...that's huge. I am so thankful for friends and family and Josh and my amazing doula, Reannan for helping me refocus my energies on bringing Hendrick into this world with a heart full of love. I was anxious to meet Henners, but calm in knowing that my body would do exactly what it needed to when the time came.
Roll back the calendar to April 17th--I was in the doctor's office for my 41 week check up. I had been cramping slightly but not dilating and was just feeling super frustrated. Dr. Andy and I had agreed that past the 40 week mark, I would do regular NST and ultrasounds to make sure my placenta was still thriving and that my fluid levels were okay and of course that baby was moving around. During my NST, I had a few contractions! I was beside myself happy and bounced home to take a brisk walk hoping it would start something. I was still VERY crampy after dinner but nothing progressed so I just went to bed.
I woke up on April 18th around 6:45 with very intense cramps that would cause me to double over as I walked. I didn't think much of it and went to make my raspberry tea. I dozed a little bit longer and when I got up to finally use the bathroom again, I had bloody show. I think that was the most exciting thing I've ever seen--it was a spiritual moment, me sitting on the toilet holding the toilet paper. I know, it's gross. Josh gagged and put up a hand to stop me from showing him. But it didn't matter to me--something was happening. Throughout the day, more and more of the plug came out, and I continued to have cramps (which I now know where mild contractions). Josh and I did the dirty (what, we made love, get over it, it helps things get moving) and went to the park around 5 to meet Reannan and just hang out and talk baby and labor which seemed to be approaching (finally!). She brought me a beautiful flower and wished me well, and we parted with hearts full of anticipation, agreeing either I or Josh would of course contact her with updates. On the way home, we stopped by my best friend's house and said a quick hello. I was bouncing in my seat excited because my contractions continued to slowly wash over me as we talked. I made alfredo pasta and chicken picatta (which, I'm still not good at) and bounced on the yoga ball watching Honey Boo Boo. Josh fell asleep and I stayed up for a bit before passing out asleep.
On April 19th I woke up around 2 am with contractions that were coming steady and had increased in length and power. It was uncomfortable, like period cramps, but still manageable. I took notes through this whole thing and I have written down "I am learning to breathe through each one". And breathe I did. I walked. I paced, and I reminded myself it was one step closer to meeting our boy. I was excited and calm and in disbelief that it was HAPPENING. My fears washed away. Around 5 that morning, I woke up Josh because I could no longer rest. I wasn't in terrible pain but I was very unsteady on my feet and I had to focus a bit more through each wave. 7am rolled by and Bethany (my dear and best friend) stopped by (of course I texted her immediately) and I bounced away on my yoga ball and we all chatted comfortably in the living room. I think she snapped some pictures of me in these final moments that Hendrick was in my belly, but let's be honest that they're not my best. I think I was shoving my face with a cranberry Kind bar at the time and not wearing a bra. My contractions were waning and I was getting a little concerned as to where they were disappearing to. As crazy as it sounds to some people, I was enjoying the fact that my body was finally on board.
What I haven't mentioned here is that my doctor and I had agreed that if I had not started labor on my own, at the 42 week mark I would be induced. Now, no one jump all over me for this. I get that the average gestation for a new mom is usually 42 weeks, and that people DO get pushed and SCARED into inductions! I was neither forced NOR scared. I want to say how AMAZINGLY supportive my doctor was to me, even going against the "norm" (hopefully one day this will change) to let me go past 40 weeks, to not try and force me to be induced, to continue letting me go on as planned even if the ultrasound techs said my "baby looked really big". He knew all of my wishes and desires and also had a great deal of confidence in me. I hope that in the future ALL women can have a doctor like Dr. Andy. I also hope one day Dr.Andy can expand on his practices and be happily one day assisting mothers in VBACS in Idaho. Alright, back to my birthing process.
I called my doctor to let him know I was having contractions and that they were steady but still about 10 minutes apart. The nurse that answered told me that she thought doctor Andy would tell me to go in so I should go ahead and head to the hospital. I told her no. My plan was to labor at home and progress as much as possible before going in--we did not live far from the hospital and I wanted to be at home and comfortable until the time came. She sighed and said she would talk to the doctor and then call me back. I got a call back and she said she talked to Dr.Andy and he said I should go in immediately. I started bawling and called Reannan who told me I was strong and that I needed to listen to my body. I not ready to go in--it could be another day or two even! I had planned on showering and packing a few final things and making food before I checked in. Not to mention that I definitely was doing fine at home. I insisted that HE talk to ME personally as I did not necessarily believe she had actually spoken with him.When we finally talked he told me I was just fine and to keep him updated. Love that guy.
My contractions were mild and irregular all throughout the day. We had several visitors and I talked on the phone to my mom. I ate an enormous amount of taco salad and then made a huge oriental salad to top that off. I was super hungry and guzzling Raspberry Leaf Tea by the gallon. My contractions continued and I laid down around 9 that night only to be woken up by a huge piece of my mucus plug passing that actually hurt. I was having lots of cramping and contractions; I think the cramping must have been from passing the mucus plug. This just kept up. I would contract heavily and regularly at night and then the contractions would slowly drift off in the morning, coming in weird patterns sporadically throughout the day. I was getting a little bit frustrated, but trying to stay calm. I did not want to be induced at any cost. I went to the hospital the night of 4/21 to get a requested NST to make sure baby was okay. Everything looked good except that my cervix was still thick and I had not yet dilated past 1. Still, I was very optimistic and ready to head home and rest. One way or another, I was going to be a mom--like, soon.
4/22 rolled around and I was set to be induced that night. I decided to go to a chiropractor as suggested by my sister in law and Reannan to see if it would give my body one final nudge. The thought was that baby was turned in a difficult position which is why I was having so much back pain and prodromal labor. My back pain eased up but contractions were still not frequent. So we checked in at 7pm that night. I was given Cervadil to dilate, which made my contractions immediately get a little bit heavier. I was fine with it, just a little upset that I wasn't allowed to pee during. I walked around and ate a little bit, and got into the bath in my room. I tried to sleep a little but I just couldn't. Josh slept on the windowsill bed while I texted with friends and breathed. I wasn't supposed to start Pitocin until 7 the next morning, but the Cervadil dilated me enough apparently and I was started a Pitocin drip. In about an hour, my contractions started to get fairly intense. I dilated to a 3 and was 80% effaced, but was still at a Stage Negative 3. It didn't matter. My baby was almost there. I was pleasantly surprised that no one had yet balked about my birthing plan and one nurse even asked for a copy so that everyone else who came into my room knew what was happening.
I loved being in the bath. I think if I ever give birth again it will be at home, in the water. I still had painful contractions, but it felt like heaven on my back. I just thought I'd add that in there.
Josh woke up around 5 and we called Rennan and Bethany (my best friend) to come be with us. At this point, I was really having to focus and breathe through each contraction as I was at the highest dosage of Pitocin they give. My good friend Shawna stopped by, but I barely remember seeing her because I was so focused on breathing. I absolutely could not have asked for a better group of people to be beside me in labor. Many will laugh, but it was a truly spiritual experience through me. My body just instinctively told me to "wheeewwww" deep and long through each contraction. I sometimes had to hold my hand up to the hospital staff to remind them to not talk to me or move me too fast because I was contracting. Josh, Reannan and Bethany took turns sitting next to me, laying hands on me or being leverage while I worked through a wave. They worked as a fluid, loving machine. All my needs were met and I never once felt panic or a sense of loneliness. I never reached out and didn't have a hand to hold. I also lost all sense of modesty, and for me that is hard. Even in front of people that loved me so much. I was open and raw and so surrounded by love.
Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured my dad telling me I was doing a good job. For those that don't know, my dad passed when I was 11. He was totally there with me in the delivery room. I think that's why we all laughed through each contraction. I remember Dr.Andy coming in and expecting me to be a wildcat or crying or angry, but each time was met with genuine surprise that we were laughing or talking quietly or just sitting together focusing the energy on baby Henners. The laboring that I got to do was peaceful.
I had previously been able to get into the bath with the fetal monitor on but was now told that I had to stay in bed because it was becoming increasingly hard to monitor baby's heartbeat. I explained calmly that I simply could not hold still, I needed to be able to move around per my birthing plan and bounce on a yoga ball, lay on my side, or get in the shower if need be. I knew if I ended up on my back I would not be able to handle the pain. I think this was around 10 AM or so.
An internal monitor was finally placed inside (per MY request) and eventually Dr.Andy came in and I decided that it was time to try breaking my bag of waters. I think that this half hour was the most painful for me.
As time went by, I still did not dilate or progress at all. In my heart I knew that Hendrick was not coming out vaginally. I really believe I knew this from the start. I know a lot of moms might scoff but I really felt this within my soul. I know my body was meant for birth, but I don't think with Hendrick it was meant to happen. Dr. Andy came in around 1 and explained to me that he was a little concerned. He gave me two options--I could choose to do a CSection now OR he would respect my birthing plan, remove me from the Pitocin drip and I could continue to labor on my own and see if that would help me progress. I remember looking around and telling everyone that although they might be surprised, I was opting to have a CSection. I don't think anyone was surprised besides the doctor. I explained that I had thought since conception that this would end how it did--not in a negative way, just that's what the universe held for me. I had gotten to carry my boy full term and experience labor with no pain meds, and I felt that it was time to get my son out. I believe that had I continued, it would have turned into an emergency situation. I also believe that the next time (if it happens) I have a baby, that I will have a very successful VBAC, possibly HBAC. I believe that everything happens as it should. So, after many days of prodromal labor, and 12 hours on Pitocin, I was prepped for surgery. Reannan and Bethany wiped me down for the procedure, and sent me off with final words of love as Josh suited up and called my family.
When it was time for my spinal block, Dr. Andy held me and told me how sorry he was that everything happened that I didn't want to happen, and how brave I was, and how amazed he was at how calm I was. I laughed along with the surgical staff while my body was prepared. Music played, and Josh was allowed to snap a few pictures during. He kept asking me if I wanted to see what was happening but I told him no. He was so fascinated by the whole operation, and I was shocked that he didn't pass out. As Hendrick was being born, Mumford and Sons played "I will wait for you..." and as cheesy as that is, a better song couldn't have been on. I did wait. And I heard him cry. And I started crying. And Josh exclaimed "He's PERFECT!!!!" and in that moment I was a mother. My heart left my body and went into his. Our bond was stronger than ever with him out of my body. We did it. Josh brought him to my side and Hendrick immediately latched onto my cheek. Good Lord I was in LOVE.
I am so grateful for so many things. I am grateful to have had a doctor who had my back. A doctor who cared. A hospital staff who LISTENED. A boyfriend who was there through the whole thing. A best friend who came by my side and quietly left before she could even MEET Hendrick, because she had to then go take care of her family. Nurses who allowed skin to skin with Josh afterwards, and nurses who let me leave recovery early instead of holding me for 2 hours so that I could breastfeed right away. I am mostly grateful that my son was safe and healthy and is here. I would not change my experience for anything.
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